THE STRANGE HISTORY OF A MYSTERIOUS BEING

I recently fell down a rabbithole after seeing a reference to 19th century American “Hollow Earth” proponents who toured the country giving lectures on the purported existence of a society living within the earth’s center. Some of these so-called explorers even raised funds for expeditions to reach the center of the earth. In the course of my own rambles, I stumbled on the novel Etidorhpa by John Uri Lloyd.

The book Etidorhpa; or, the End of the Earth: the Strange History of a Mysterious Being and the Account of a Remarkable Journey, is John Uri Lloyd’s whimsical take on the “hollow earth” genre. Published by the Cincinnati-based pharmacologist John Uri Lloyd in 1895, the novel focuses on a man named Johannes Llewellyn Llongollyn Drury, studying occult and alchemic phenomena, receives an unexpected visitor late in the night. A white-haired man teleports into his parlor. The old man entrusts a manuscript to our narrator, recounting events that transpired three decades earlier, and eventually introduces himself by the odd name of “I—Am—The—Man—Who—Did—It”.

The story then switches to content of the manuscript, which tells of the old man’s kidnapping by a secret hermetic society. His captors forced him to prematurely age in order to disguise his identity. Soon after, I—Am—The—Man is indentured to a guide, who is essentially a lizard man. The reptilian leads the now-aged man to the underworld (the entrance of which, we learn, is to be found in Kentucky). It’s like Dante meets Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland meets contemporary internet conspiracy theories about “the reptilian elite”. As Drury and the creature descend into the earth’s interior, their ever-evolving philosophical debate finds new scenery: forests of colossal fungi; a field of Brobdingnag hands affixed to the bodies of Lilliputians; and the experience of “eternity without time.”

The book’s title derives from an encounter with a being named “Etidorhpa”, who appears after I—Am—The—Man declines to drink a distillation of “derivates of the rarest species of the fungus family”. Instead of drugs, he is intoxicated by this seraphic creature, whose rhetorical flourishes almost eclipse her physical beauty. “The universe bows to my authority”, she says. “Stars and suns enamored pulsate and throb in space and kiss each other in waves of light; atoms cold embrace and cling together; structures inanimate affiliate with and attract inanimate structures; bodies dead to other noble passions are not dead to love.” She later introduces herself as an entity once known as Venus, but whose true name is Etidorhpa (“Aphrodite” in reverse).

If you are intrigued, it’s possible to read and download a digital version of the pre-Jules Verne Journey to the Center of the Earth at the Project Gutenberg website right here.

 

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War of the Worlds

I have been intrigued by the H.G. Wells iconic science fiction novel  War of the Worlds since I first read the book as a 10 year-old. The terrifying tale was first serialized in nine issues of Pearson’s Magazine (1897/98) with illustrations by Warwick Goble. These got reprinted in the first American edition of the book in 1898, but the original British book length edition published in 1898 was issued without any illustrations. However,the first Dutch translation from 1899 was published with 10 original drawings. The artwork was created by Jacobus Hendrik Speenhoff who was better known as a cabaret performer than an artist. De Strijd der Werelden was published in Amsterdam by Cohen Zonen and remains a highly sought after version by collectors on both sides of the Atlantic.

 

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If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear

TIL that Mary Shelley actually wrote her groundbreaking novel Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus while she was living in Bath, England. I also discovered that the new Mary Shelley’s House of Frankenstein, opened in Bath last week. The multimedia museum commemorates Shelley’s life and work over 205 years since she penned the now iconic book.

The new attraction tells the story behind the genesis of Frankenstein. Blurring the lines between museum and immersive experience, the museum celebrates the legacy of Shelley’s work across four atmospheric floors exploring the tragic life events and radical scientific thinking that inspired her imagination.

Bath’s newest museum covers all things Frankenstein from literature and pop culture, including movie memorabilia, artwork, books, and bizarre collectibles. There’s even a spookie basement multi-sensory experience.

 

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trembling with the same cicada sound

Here in the Northeastern U.S. we are experiencing the emergence of a brood of 17-year cicadas. Sitting in my garden listening to the noisy insects, I was reminded of this very short piece by the late American poet W.S. Merwin:

 

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For a cat every day is caturday

 

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where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people

While recently helping a friend plan a trip to Berlin, I encouraged him to visit the brilliant memorial at Bebelplatz in the Mitte District.

On May 10, 1933, in the Bebelplatz in central Berlin, members of the Nazi Student Union burned 20,000 books, objecting to the “un-German spirit” of many Jewish, Communist, gay, and liberal authors. Joseph Goebbels declared that “the era of exaggerated Jewish intellectualism is now at an end … and the future German man will not just be a man of books … this late hour [I] entrust to the flames the intellectual garbage of the past.”

In 1995, Israeli sculptor Micha Ullman created a memorial room under the plaza, with empty shelves enough to accommodate 20,000 books. A plaque set into the cobblestones bears a quote by Heinrich Heine:

That was but a prelude;
where they burn books,
they will ultimately burn people as well.

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Books That Fill You With Sudden, Inexplicable Curiosity

An excerpt from If on a winter’s night a traveler

by

Italo Calvino

Translated by William Weaver


So, then, you noticed in a newspaper that If on a winter’s night a traveler had appeared, the new book by Italo Calvino, who hadn’t published for several years. You went to the bookshop and bought the volume. Good for you.

In the shop window you have promptly identified the cover with the title you were looking for. Following this visual trail, you have forced your way through the shop past the thick barricade of Books You Haven’t Read, which were frowning at you from the tables and shelves, trying to cow you. But you know you must never allow yourself to be awed, that among them there extend for acres and acres the Books You Needn’t Read, the Books Made For Purposes Other Than Reading, Books Read Even Before You Open Them Since They Belong To The Category Of Books Read Before Being Written. And thus you pass the outer girdle of ramparts, but then you are attacked by the infantry of the Books That If You Had More Than One Life You Would Certainly Also Read But Unfortunately Your Days Are Numbered. With a rapid maneuver you bypass them and move into the phalanxes of the Books You Mean To Read But There Are Others You Must Read First, the Books Too Expensive Now And You’ll Wait Till They’re Remaindered, the Books ditto When They Come Out In Paperback, Books You Can Borrow From Somebody, Books That Everybody’s Read So It’s As If You Had Read Them, Too. Eluding these assaults, you come up beneath the towers of the fortress, where other troops are holding out:
the Books You’ve Been Planning Top Read For Ages,
the Books You’ve Been Hunting For Years Without Success,
the Books Dealing With Something You’re Working On At The Moment,
the Books You Want To Own So They’ll Be Handy Just In Case,
the Books You Could Put Aside Maybe To Read This Summer,
the Books You Need To Go With Other Books On Your Shelves,
the Books That Fill You With Sudden, Inexplicable Curiosity, Not Easily Justified,

Now you have been able to reduce the countless embattled troops to an array that is, to be sure, very large but still calculable in a finite number; but this relative relief is then undermined by the ambush of the Books Read Long Ago Which It’s Now Time To Reread and the Books You’ve Always Pretended To Have Read And Now It’s Time To Sit Down And Really Read Them.

With a zigzag dash you shake them off and leap straight into the citadel of the New Books Whose Author Or Subject Appeals To You. Even inside this stronghold you can make some breaches in the ranks of the defenders, dividing them into New Books by Authors Or On Subjects Not New (for you or in general) and New Books By Authors Or On Subjects Completely Unknown (at least to you), and defining the attraction they have for you on the basis of your desires and needs for the new and the not new (for the new you seek in the not new and for the not new you seek in the new).

All this simply means that, having rapidly glanced over the titles of the volumes displayed in the bookshop, you have turned toward a stack of If on a winter’s night a traveler fresh off the press, you have grasped a copy, and you have carried it to the cashier so that your right to own it can be established.

You cast another bewildered look at the books around you (or, rather: it was the books that looked at you, with the bewildered gaze of dogs who, from their cages in the city pound, see a former companion go off on the leash of his master, come to rescue him), and out you went.

You derive a special pleasure from a just-published book, and it isn’t only a book you are taking with you but its novelty as well, which could also be merely that of an object fresh from the factory, the youthful bloom of new books, which lasts until the dust jacket begins to yellow, until a veil of smog settles on the top edge, until the binding becomes dog-eared, in the rapid autumn of libraries. No, you hope always to encounter true newness, which, having been new once, will continue to be so. Having read the freshly published book, you will take possession of this newness at the first moment, without having to pursue it, to chase it. Will it happen this time? You never can tell. Let’s see how it begins.

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London Calling

Soon Come is a sweet short film featuring skateboarder Ezra Bruno rolling through a deserted London reminiscing poetically about what life was like before Covid-19. The film, produced by Outright Films, was shot in one day during April of this year.The story of Soon Come is told through a poem that describes the many things that we all love and miss about London.

 

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one person out of 8,000,000

“Personal Poem”

by

Frank O’Hara


Now when I walk around at lunchtime
I have only two charms in my pocket
an old Roman coin Mike Kanemitsu gave me
and a bolt-head that broke off a packing case
when I was in Madrid the others never
brought me too much luck though they did
help keep me in New York against coercion
but now I’m happy for a time and interested

I walk through the luminous humidity
passing the House of Seagram with its wet
and its loungers and the construction to
the left that closed the sidewalk if
I ever get to be a construction worker
I’d like to have a silver hat please
and get to Moriarty’s where I wait for
LeRoi and hear who wants to be a mover and
shaker the last five years my batting average
is .016 that’s that, and LeRoi comes in
and tells me Miles Davis was clubbed 12
times last night outside birdland by a cop
a lady asks us for a nickel for a terrible
disease but we don’t give her one we
don’t like terrible diseases, then

we go eat some fish and some ale it’s
cool but crowded we don’t like Lionel Trilling
we decide, we like Don Allen we don’t like
Henry James so much we like Herman Melville
we don’t want to be in the poets’ walk in
San Francisco even we just want to be rich
and walk on girders in our silver hats
I wonder if one person out of the 8,000,000 is
thinking of me as I shake hands with LeRoi
and buy a strap for my wristwatch and go
back to work happy at the thought possibly so

 

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Heading To Tokyo

While most folks heading to Tokyo were focused on the upcoming Olympics, the Japanese art collective Mé headed to the skies. Last week, city residents were surprised to see a giant hot air balloon in the shape of a human head floating over Yoyogi Park. The art installation was titled “Masayume” which means “dream come true.”The surreal hot air balloon drifted around Tokyo, surprising and sometimes frightening people.

The project was inspired by a dream that Haruka Kojin, one of the three-member art collective, had when she was a child. The face on the balloon featured an actual person who is alive, somewhere in the world but their identity remained undisclosed. The person was selected from over 1400 people all around the world who applied to have their face floated into the sky above Tokyo.

 

 

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